


Murder on the Dancefloor

by Indybaggins



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-25
Updated: 2007-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indybaggins/pseuds/Indybaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had met on the dance floor…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murder on the Dancefloor

 

 

“Come here.” 

Jeff speaks in a low, hushed voice, barely audible over the humming of the bus’ air-conditioning and the sound of the engine the driver has left on.

Chip swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and doesn’t say a word.

 

\---

 

They had met on a dance floor. 

They hadn’t really met on a dance floor, as they both knew each other from before that, from Whose Line meetings and passing by in corridors and simply by name and reputation. But it was different since they hadn’t actually looked at each other before dancing together, before touching each other and eventually they would agree that night had felt as if it should have been their first meeting… 

 

\---

 

Greg and Ryan have left the bus just a moment before and it’s dangerous; someone can come in any minute and Chip tries to argue as much, even getting as far as saying “Jeff, not here…” 

…before Jeff steps behind him and Chip feels heat radiate against his back and he closes his eyes, feeling the heat already pool in his stomach, the tension in the air, and decides the risk isn’t _that_ great, it can’t be. 

 

\---

 

They had all been celebrating something or another, Drew did that sort of thing too often to keep track of what exactly, and there had been bright flashing lights in the club just for them and a strong, sensual beat.

Chip had been rocking back and forth, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he was sipping from a red plastic cup with some god-awful liquid in it, trying to keep up a conversation with Colin, who looked oddly out of place in the midst of so much noise and light and people yelling and bumping past them. 

 

\---

 

Jeff whispers against his neck “We’ll be quick…” and he shudders as Jeff touches his wrist, uses one finger to softly stroke over sensitive skin there. 

It’s been so long since they’ve done anything like this, and he wants to ask why, but the memory of the last time is enough to make him hard already, even more so as he feels Jeff pushing his erection against his back, purposely so, and they both know there’s no way he’s going to say no, he never does.

 

\---

 

Unlike Colin, Chip was completely in his element, and he had been smiling brightly while scanning the crowd, enjoying the atmosphere, the drunk and boisterous people, the deafening music. When Jeff’s eyes locked with his, it had felt only natural to continue smiling, even wink at him in what had been nothing more than recognition. 

Jeff had answered his smile and come closer, and later he had realized Jeff must not have known many people at the party, that he had been standing on his own, but right that second he had been _fascinated_ by the man, the cool, unwavering stare, the strong, sure touch. 

 

\---

 

So Chip drops the plastic-covered shirt he had been meaning to change into, hands shaking slightly, and feels a rush of heat hit him as Jeff wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, squeezing briefly. 

He’s not interested in that as much as everything else though, _everything_ , and so he turns his face in an effort to see Jeff, to see the look in his eyes because Jeff can turn him on with a blink of his eyes or a pout of his lip, always has been able to…

 

\---

 

He didn’t think they even spoke as he handed his cup to Colin and slightly leaned into Jeff’s side as they made their way over to the middle of the dance floor. 

They both were performers by nature, acting out the most complicated and wild routines they could think of as soon as they really got into it. Chip felt _alive_ , brimming with energy with Jeff next to him who was a little more subdued but also dominant, touching Chip’s hand to alert him to something, getting way too close to yell something insignificant into his ear. It took very little effort to coordinate their steps, soon they were dancing around each other, grinding, thrusting into air and holding onto each other, hands traveling over shirts that were sticking with sweat, faces flushed and eyes shining. 

 

\---

 

…but Jeff meets him halfway, lips bumping together in what becomes a hungry, messy kiss made awkward by the angle and the fact that Jeff seems determined on getting them both out of their pants as fast as possible, hands sure and confident and too close for him to keep thinking. 

And he tries to help and lower his pants but stumbles forwards, almost falling against the side of the bus, so Jeff laughs breathily into his ear, turns him around and pushes him onto one of the benches, straddling him easily.

 

\---

 

It wasn’t much of a surprise to either of them when they took it into a bathroom stall, the door banging shut behind them and a sense of urgency leading them on. 

They moved much as on the dance floor, effortlessly sliding against each other, with glittering eyes and small gasps and it was then or never, they both knew it, so when Jeff was pressing small, fast kisses to the side of his face and asked, voice deep and _wonderful_ “Yeah?” Chip had nodded, “Oh god yes…” 

 

\---

 

His pants finally get away from around his ankles and he can see a flash of Jeff’s dick, red and swollen, before Jeff flings them in the direction of the driver’s seat. He can feel Jeff bend down and take him in his mouth, every tense little detail of it, and he feels like he’s losing any level of coherent thought right then, just whimpers, but he doesn’t want to come like that and eventually he says something more like “Please” and “Now” 

…and Jeff gets out a condom like he had been planning every second of this and later Jeff is inside of him and pulls his legs up and he knows he should feel silly, legs up in the air, moaning as Jeff moves in and out of him but he doesn’t, of course not.

Chip comes before Jeff does, with a high-pitched cry and a shudder and his hand hits the cold, clammy window, tries to hold on and he looks at Jeff’s flushed face, meets him for every push until Jeff comes with a short, soft “aargh…” and they almost fall of the bench. 

 

\---

 

It had been surprisingly good, Chip’s knees buckling when he came inside Jeff’s mouth, Jeff holding him up and against the wall with both arms, catching him, and when he had returned the favor Jeff’s hands had messed up his hair and stroked his face, gently. 

After they had cleaned up, washed hands and splashed faces with ice-cold water, they went back to the party that day, once again dancing but no longer in the very middle, more of to the side and to a subtle, thoughtful rhythm, Jeff’s hand resting on his shoulder. 

 

\---

 

They take a moment to collect their breaths, lying tangled up on the way too small bench, sunshine filtering through the darkened windows, before Jeff gets up stiffly and collects Chip’s pants for him with something of an enigmatic smile. Chip sits up to accept it and tries to smile as well, tension and release still rippling through his body, making it hard to say what he had been meaning to, wants to. “Jeff?”

Jeff eyes him solemnly, sunglasses already in hand, he doesn’t look even the slightest bit fazed, there’s an awkward pause stretching between them and for a fraction of a second Chip wonders if he looks _hopeful_ maybe, before he chickens out and says “We have to be at sound check in five minutes.” 

And Jeff lets the silence dangle and stretch between them just a bit more, before he takes a hesitant step forward, and Chip says something like “Oh…” and before he knows it he is hugging Jeff’s waist, holding onto him like he’s the last thing on earth, but Jeff is doing the same, his long pale fingers digging into his shoulders. 

And suddenly he does feel silly, feels a faint smile spread though him and then Jeff is laughing too, shaking his head a little.

 

 

 

 


End file.
